Disperazione
by iRomano-trash
Summary: With the world on the brink of war, chaos blooming along with second players, and with Italy as this generation's most wanted; will things go back as the way they were, or will the nations give in to the darkness in their hearts and start a new era of nuclear war? (This story can also be found on my Quotev account and my Wattpad account; links are in my profile)
1. Prologue

Screams of terror and pain echoed in his ears. As each bullet whistled through the hall a man fell dead. Not only men but also innocent women and children who watched were slaughtered mercilessly. He did not know the true purpose of why he was doing this, but the voice of darkness beckoned him to finish what he had started, to continue the deed.

Besides, they've done this countless times before. It couldn't hurt to do it more, could it?

The screams were quickly deafened by the dreadful sound of cracking skulls as the floor was dyed a dark crimson red. The familiar, rancid odor of blood was still foul to him, even after several times of smelling it.

The personification of the Northern half of Italy briskly walked over, about to dispose of the horribly mutilated corpses. But then, what was the point of hiding the evidence of a crime whose criminal is already known?

Veneziano took a deep breath and slipped into the shadows. This was how he escaped; by hiding from the light; by blending into the darkness of alleys and accepting it as part of his own being. He took refuge and rested during the day and turned into a killing machine by night. He was, dare he say, like a vampire in a sense. He stopped for a moment to rest, leaning against a brick wall that was barely recognizable in the dark of the night. After a minute of trying to steady his breathing, he continued moving, for a killer could not stay in an area for too long, otherwise he'd be caught. He absolutely had to keep moving.

Soon enough, he was met by his Southern counterpart; Romano. He looked well, save for the flecks of red staining his outfit. Veneziano presumed that Romano just came back from a mission, too, for his brother was just brandishing a bloody knife before he arrived at the camp they had set up near the woods. It was reasonably small in size compared to the other ones they've had before, but it was just as well-armed.

Olive green orbs met amber ones. Veneziano nodded his head lightly in acknowledgement before Romano opened his mouth to speak.

"I assume you took care of those bastards just fine, am I not right?" The darker haired personification queried. Veneziano nodded, and took out from the inside of his jacket the documents he had retrieved.

"Si, fratello. Here are the data we need for the final preparations."

"Good. Now we can finally begin Operation Cambiamento. Shall we oversee the plan once more?" Romano offered.

Veneziano shrugged and said in reply, "I do not think it shall be necessary, but it won't hurt to check for any flaws, no? After all, this has to be planned and carried out perfectly and carefully if we want to triumph."

 _... when did this start...?_

 _... when will it end...?_

 _... from the looks of things right now, I doubt it ever will..._

 _...The lamps are going out all over the world; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime..._

This battle for information- slaughter, rather- has ended.

But the real one has just begun.


	2. Chapter 1

-

Germany scanned the room. It was quite spacious for a meeting with only eight nations; namely the rest of the G8 and China. In the middle of the area was a large circular wooden table, with just enough seats for the attending nations. There were no windows to let the rays of the sun seep inside; for the room itself was cut off from the light of the outside world. They were located in a secluded area near Moscow. Despite the fact that trees, tall, sturdy pine trees and other conifers, surrounded the location, there were no signs of life around the place whatsoever.

Then, the personification looked at his companions.

A young blonde wearing unmistakable square-framed black glasses paced around nervously, a gloved hand on his chin. He looked like he was in deep thought at the moment, which would have been either funny or surprising; maybe even both, if it weren't for the upcoming war. In a situation like this, even America could get deathly serious. Judging by the beads of sweat trickling down his unusually pale face, those thoughts weren't good news.

Next were France and England, who were currently investigating several maps they brought along and set down on the table. Every once in a while, both of them pointed to a certain area on a map and marked it with a red pen. Germany did not know the full depth of what exactly they were doing, but he knew it would point out the current whereabouts of the Italies; or at least some other equally necessary information. For once, the two weren't arguing about anything at all.

Russia was staring blankly into space, his violet eyes darting from one place to another before glinting dangerously; as if he were contemplating on something. Germany had a cold instinct telling him that he didn't need to know whatever that was. China was beside Russia, also seeming to be in a world of his own.

America's brother- Canada, as he recalled- was intently browsing through thick books of various subjects. Germany didn't need to disturb him, did he?

Then there was his former Axis ally, Japan. Not that they weren't allies now, but it was different from the latter. Japan was silent. Yes, yes, that was blunt, but that seemed to be suffice. The Asian nation hadn't uttered a single word since he arrived at the meeting place. Not that Germany really minded.

Germany cleared his throat to catch their full attention, causing some to jump slightly in surprise.

"Er, sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly in embarrassment. "Anyway, is everyone ready to start the emergency meeting?"

All of them nodded.

"Good. First, we need to know why we're here. France, could you please state your reasons for calling this emergency meeting?" All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at France in expectation.

"Well, to put it simply, Italy was spotted south. Specifically, both Veneziano and Romano were seen in Cité de Carcassonne."

America quickly reacted to this in sheer shock. "Carcassonne? But what would they be doing in a medieval town?"

"I think I may have the answer to that. You see, to get from Massif Central to Spain without having to cross the Pyrenees, you would have to take the route from Carcassonne." England replied.

"Oui, that seemed to be the only explanation. They may have some business with Spain. After all, he is on their side, is he not?" France nodded in agreement. That was definitely a first.

Canada raised his hand. "Germany, may I?"

"Ja, you may speak, Canada."

"I do not wish to offend you two, but why did those two have to go through the trouble of travelling by land to Spain when they could directly take a ferry from Italy to there? Not only that, but they went through French territory even though they were quite possibly aware that it was dangerous."

"Hmm... that is true." England thought for a moment then said, "Perhaps... they may be seeking information. France, were those two spotted alone?"

"Yes. No one else was with them."

Japan looked slightly surprised. "That's strange. Usually, they bring the mafia along when they go data-hunting." he pointed out.

"So they might have some other objective..." America realized. "I know they do, but I don't know what..."

-

"Say, Spain, how's the weapon coming along?"

"I'm quite close to finishing it, Romano. Give me until Wednesday, will you?" The brown-haired, jade-eyed personification of Spain asked.

"Wednesday?" Romano had to blink twice and repeat the word to make sure he heard him right. "But the operation will be carried out on Friday..."

"It's alright, fratello. Wednesday is good enough; we still have enough time for testing before the real operation begins. Besides... I won't give up until I have a success rate of 100%." Veneziano said with a genuine smile; not the cold, dark ones he mockingly gave to his victims, nor the ones that were full of mischief and malice. It was just a soft, genuine smile that spoke straight from his still somewhat pure heart and made his amber eyes twinkle with real joy, instead of the empty happiness he got from murdering several people.

Both Romano and Spain looked at him, then smiled as well.

"You've grown up, Veneziano." Romano said proudly and patted him on the back.

"This was has changed us all." Spain agreed, ruffling Veneziano's hair.


	3. Chapter 2

-

"Absolutely not!" Switzerland decided. "I will not participate in such an absurd waste of time! Not only time is wasted, but also untold amounts of money and lives; both military and civilian! And to add to that, a war would ravage not only Europe, but also the world! Don't you see, Prussia? I simply do not have the time for child's play; for risking Liechtenstein and I's neutrality just for our own countries to become devastated in the end, whether our side wins or not!"

Switzerland pounded his right hand on the table in anger, making the seemingly delicate, fragile wooden floorboards underneath creak eerily. He glared at Prussia; flat mint green orbs clashing with crimson red ones.

Meanwhile, Liechtenstein, who was innocently sitting right next to her brother, silently cringed, though the other two nations showed no signs of noticing her annoyance. Yes, face it, even she gets annoyed at times. All country personifications are nations, as well as humans. Otherwise, the world would be a utopia; where everyone is perfect. Nations not only represent the country, but also their people. All nations are humans, and no human is perfect; so therefore the world is imperfect.

Liechtenstein smoothed her pink dress while sending an apologetic smile to Prussia. The latter looked back and forth between the siblings. He almost couldn't believe they were siblings; well, Liechtenstein was actually adopted, but still; if Switzerland raised her, then she should have a personality similar to his, if not exactly.

Prussia sighed in exasperation. "Don't you think it's good to come out of your shell once in a while, Switzy? Besides, West and the others could really use some of your help! Stop being neutral for once, will you?"

Prussia could swear he saw steam come out of Switzerland's ears.

"Have you not learned a lesson from your experience with warring by now? After World War Two, they accused you of training Germany for him to start the wars. Your country was dissolved; though I have no idea why you're still alive even when you no longer represent an independent state."

Prussia felt that bullet go straight through his heart. He knew it was not voluntary on Switzerland's part; it was just a harmless remark that was said in a spur of the moment. Nevertheless, it hurt. Hurt was an understatement; but it was the only fitting adjective to describe his despair. The pain was so familiar to him, yet so unknown at the same time.

His entire demeanor changed; his eyes becoming dull, his fists clenched, and his body trembled; but only for a fraction of a second. As quick as it appeared, it came back to normal; Prussia's tense muscles softened and relax and his eyes were back to their regular hue, even appearing with a twinkle of mischief. He appeared quite perplexed, though, surprisingly, his current emotion was generally unreadable.

"Us nations do not need to represent a state to have a reason to live." Prussia smirked. "Take Hong Kong for example; he represents a Special Administrative Region; and he was not officially declared an independent state. And I do represent a region; I represent the area of East Germany. Ever wondered why I call my brother 'West'?"

Switzerland was speechless for a moment. "I am astonished with your extensive knowledge; especially going as far as being able to present a reasonable argument with a valid example. May I ask, how do you even know of Hong Kong? I have not seen you having any close or intimate relation with him, but you knew much about his land anyway."

Prussia only smirked more. "I have my sources. Anyway, do you agree to our terms or not?"

Switzerland gritted his teeth. "Like I said, I have no interest-"

"Bruder, may I have a say in this?" Liechtenstein politely asked, making the Prussia and Switzerland go silent.

"... Yes. Yes, you may."

"Mister Prussia," Liechtenstein turned to look at the mentioned nation. "All you are seeking are moral and military support and assurance of the aforementioned terms, are they not?"

"Ja."

"Well, to settle this, I have a possible solution. We shall provide the needed support, but will remain in neutrality. In other words, we will be solely dedicated to the assistance of the new band of Allies, but we will not directly participate in the events of war. Do you two agree?" She said calmly and slowly, like a mother explaining the answer to a child's curiosities; making sure that those terms were fully understood.

Switzerland contemplated on his decision. "Fine. At least we remain neutral."

Prussia shrugged. "Good enough. Just so you know, if any of the opposing nations attack any of you, we will go in war in defense of your neutrality."

"So a deal it is, then?" Liechtenstein asked happily.

"Deal." The other two said in unison, shaking hands somewhat reluctantly.


	4. Chapter 3

Prussia briskly walked away from Switzerland and Liechtenstein's shared mansion. It took him quite a while to convince the always neutral Swiss nation, but in the end, it was win-win.

The former empire looked at the sky. It was a sheet of black nothingness, littered with twinkling stars. The silver full moon was enchantingly beautiful, yet hauntingly eerie at the same time. The cold night wind howled; it seemed to disrupt the perfect silence yet it was also a part of it. The leaves rustled; the trees dancing along with the breeze.

Prussia, for some odd reason, seemed to sympathize with the darkness of the night. He felt uncanny compassion for the lone entities around him. Somehow, he felt like he was the sky; his heart, his soul, his own existence was just a dark void. There was no meaning to it; no meaning at all. Prussia knew his soul was empty; he knew it all this time.

However, he also knew that the bright stars across the sky was everyone around him. He was only a mere being that existed in this world; but every nation with him made him live in it. He knew he was empty, devoid of all significance, if it weren't for his friends; who filled him with the reason and incentive to live. Like the stars, they filled his dark, lonely life with the light of friendship and essence.

He could not believe how he only realized the extreme importance of everyone when he seriously thought about it. The moral; the meaning of it was so clear now; "No man is an island." It was so simple; why had he not known of this from the start? Perhaps it was buried in his search for more complicated matters; he had forgotten it in favor of more difficult goals. Until now, he was not entirely aware of the deeper interdependence and relationship he had with his family, friends, acquaintances, and everyone else.

Shaking the thoughts off, he noticed that he did not return home fully vanquished. He managed to score a fair deal with Switzerland, plus he finally learned something from his often unnecessary thoughts.

Suddenly, he felt a faint movement. It was brief; only a soft, gentle brush of what seemed to be fingertips on his right arm; but he was quite sure that something, or someone, was there. He knew a being was watching him; he could sense it. Sure, call him psychic or some other insult, but it was true; he could basically feel the other entity's hot breath on his neck.

Prussia took a deep breath and mustered all his courage. "Who's there?" He said as calmly as possible; trying to ignore his rapid breathing, his racing heart, and the adrenaline running through his blood vessels.

He heard a low giggle and quickly looked behind him; raising his fists and clenching them in anticipation. Curse his blasted mind for forgetting to bring a usable weapon at the least; especially since he was dealing with a hot-tempered Swiss personification, where things could have escalated quite rapidly. But now was not the time for regrets.

A shadow stirred within the darkness. The outline of a figure that was hauntingly familiar became more visible as the person purposely showed himself. A fairly tall boy with knee-high laced black boots, a light brown military uniform of unknown origin; with pale complexion, green eyes, and light auburn hair- wait, was that a curl?

"Losing your touch, P-r-u-s-s-i-a? Oh, come on, does the awesome you not recognize me?" A childish voice slowly dragged his name mockingly; asking in an almost sultry tone. The voice, though unfamiliar, was heavily laced with an Italian accent. Prussia had no doubt; he knew that only two living nation personifications could have that accent and figure; although they did have a few differences. Perhaps they changed their appearances so as to be undetected?

"Ita-chan?" Prussia tried his best not to stutter; he did not want to appear weak in front of a potential enemy. Still, the identity of this person was still unknown. He decided that he should not attack now; for which side this person was on is not yet guaranteed.

The horrific crack of a whip coming in contact with warm skin; a pained scream following soon after filled the empty silence. "Wrong answer~" The person said in a singsong voice.

Prussia wanted to say, "South Italy" but his voice would not work. The bile rising up his throat as a response to the sudden pain was too much to handle. His crimson red eyes dulled significantly.

"You're not THAT weak are you?" The person spat; taking out a knife and slowly digging the cold metal into Prussia's neck. "Fight back, you weakling! HA! I always knew German nations were useless softies."

Prussia was enraged. He wanted to strangle this person right now, put him in a sack full of meat, and throw him off to the wolves. Yet, he knew better than to let his anger take control of him.

"It's... not that... I'm weak..." Prussia cackled freely; even if it hurt his lungs to laugh. "It's... because... I'm too... strong! That's right! You... can't handle the awesome me... so I decided to be... generous and... take it... easy on you! Yeah... that's... right..."

Those foreign green orbs sparkled with amusement. "Oh, is that so? It seems to me like you're trying to convince yourself."

Prussia blinked at this; ignoring the imaginary strong blow to his heart with that statement. He was slowly weakening, was he not? He was not a nation anymore. Though he did represent a region; his strength would only equal to that of a mere human. He could not die; but staying in eternal sleep forever was as good as that.

However, he had a dignity to protect. He could not disgrace his grandfather nor his family. He could not become weaker than any member in his family of superpowers. But, most of all, he couldn't appear as a useless big brother for Ludwig. He could not bear to see his little brother being bullied because he was a weak elder brother. He wanted to see Ludwig strong and powerful, like the other nations. He wanted Ludwig to live a happy life; that's why he constantly pulled him out of work for bonding time and a bit of fun. No, not THAT kind of fun. It was the kind of fun that would give genuine joy; that would make you realize how worthless the empty happiness you have been harboring all this time was.

The person withdrew, taking out the knife; which tip was coated in the fresh blood of nation. The wound itself was not really deep; but its effects was devastating. Prussia saw black spots clouding his vision; perhaps from the leakage of oxygen due to his delicate windpipe getting grazed. He soon collapsed; drifting into unconsciousness. Prussia was not dead... yet.

The person looked at Prussia's motionless body. He admired his doing; smirking as he mumbled a few lines.

"Awh~ He did not even last long against a mere micronation like me, Seborga~"


	5. Chapter 4

The sound of a phone ringing echoed throughout Austria's room. He sighed in exasperation and whipped out his cell phone. The sheer amount of work he ought to do was not helping him relieve his stress; and with the upcoming war it just seemed to weigh more heavily on his shoulders. No matter how much his mind told him to refuse answering the call, he was not going to be impolite now, was he?

Austria looked at the caller I.D.; which indicated that Germany, of all nations, was calling him. He presumed that he had an important reason to call him; for Germany almost never calls unless it is extremely necessary. Because of that fact, Austria wasted no time in picking up the phone.

"Hello. Austria speaking."

"Guten tag, Austria. This is Germany. Sorry for calling you at an unannounced time."

"No worries, Germany. It is quite alright. What did you need?" Austria said monotonously. He could already sense the distress in Germany's voice. Perhaps the call really meant urgent matters.

"Well, so as to not waste time, I shall say this directly; Prussia seems to have gone missing."

The blonde personification's words took a moment to sink in. "W-what!?"

"Ja. I will elaborate; Precisely two days ago, Prussia scheduled a meeting with Switzerland and Liechtenstein to form a beneficial alliance with them at around five in the afternoon. Unfortunately, there was a delay concerning the G8 meeting in the morning on the same day and Prussia arrived at around seven at night instead; reason being he had to wait for the assurance of the G8. Basically, he had to make sure he was assigned the correct nations to form an alliance with."

Germany paused for a few seconds to catch his breath. "Prussia contacted me with his cell phone at that time and stated that there was also a delay on Switzerland's part. Then he left me a message at around nine indicating that Switzerland and Liechtenstein arrived. At around eleven, Prussia called me; saying that he did not manage to form an alliance but he was still guaranteed military assistance, thanks to Liechtenstein stepping in. After a little exchange of words, he told me that he'll find another place to stay; and that he'll see me in the morning. You should have an idea of what happened next."

Austria unknowingly nodded, even if Germany could not witness him doing so. "... Yes. So it seems. Time; always making conflicts as usual." He chuckled humorlessly.

"Mhmm. I have learnt my lesson in World War Two; time is of the essence." Germany agreed.

Austria could not deny it; he kept his composed facade but inside he was panicking. Him and Prussia have been on better terms ever since the first real risk of an upcoming war. Subsequently, Hungary dramatically became less aggressive towards him as well. "Well..." he started. "... what shall we do about this, Germany?"

"We are currently informing all other nations on our side of Prussia's disappearance. Hopefully, we will have other nations' governments on alert and also quite possibly send out a search team." Germany replied.

"Yes. Well then, thank you for informing me, Germany. I best be off to tell Hungary and send out a search team of my own. Prussia, I guarantee you, will prove to be of great strategic and military importance to us; so we must not lose him at all costs."

"I quite agree. Have a good day, then. Goodbye."


	6. Chapter 5

Hungary tentatively swept the tiled floor with her broom. She knew her worrying was not only useless but also quite ridiculous. Every nation's houses could not be damaged by any and all types of attack therefore making them safe; thanks to certain nations' magical powers. She should not fret at any circumstances.

However, that is the nature of war; it is simply inevitable to be scared; to worry for your possibly distant loved ones. Nations knew an awful lot about war; like the waves of terror brought about by being on the battlefield, both so familiar and foreign at the same time.

Hungary could not deny that she also knew a thing or two concerning warfare. She knew that war brings many things; carnage, fear, destruction, and death; but also love. How could you fight for something if you do not love it? How else would you feel the need to protect someone dear to you if you do not love them?

That is one of the many reasons why Hungary is simply entranced by the idea of war and love mixed together. She loves all kinds of literature and even films about it; such as the warm, passionate flower of love gradually blooming between two unsuspecting enemies, whether they are aware of their supposed enmity or not; or quite possibly a wild fire in one's heart; raging with need and want for a certain person; all to find out that it was a hopeless, forbidden love.

Oh, but enough of that. Such unnecessary behavior would only make her nothing but a nuisance; and she was intent on avoiding a situation of that sort. She had to focus her mind on more desirable topics…

 _Chirp chirp_

Hungary looked around the room alarmingly for the source of the sound; the personification's wavy brown locks following the quick movements of her head, rapidly swaying from side to side. Her mind failed to instantly register that the chirping was just a harmless bird settled on the window frame, a yellow canopy to be exact.

Her tender lips curled up into a sweet smile as she recognized the canopy to be Gilbird. She took it in her hands; the small canopy fitting snugly in the small space. A warm feeling surged through her when she felt how soft Gilbird was, but that feeling was not uncomfortable.

But what is it doing here without Prussia?

Her answer abruptly came when she heard footsteps hurriedly going down the stairs, seemingly from Austria's office. As if on cue, Austria walked to the living room in a dignified manner, right where Hungary was.

"Um... Mr. Austria...? Are you feeling alright?" She asked meekly; before mentally scolding herself. Of course he wasn't the least bit fine; the poor personification looked horribly distraught, even for Hungary's standards. When he didn't answer, Hungary spoke once again.

"Please let me rephrase my question." Hungary stepped forward confidently; the gleam of an unknown emotion shimmering in her beautiful green eyes, and concern laced in her sweet voice. "Did something happen?"

-

"How...?" Hungary stammered, eyes wide in worry.

"I... do not know exactly." Austria avoided her curious gaze.

Hungary looked at the yellow canopy in her hands. Something in her mind clicked, and she gasped in realization.

"Perhaps... Gilbird may have something to do with it." She and Austria looked at each other, determination present in their eyes.

It may have been ridiculous or absurd, but it was their only flicker of hope in the darkness.


	7. Chapter 6

-

 **A/N: I really should've put this up earlier, but I guess it slipped my mind. Along with updating, because, wow, I had the longest writers' block ever. Anyway, this book will actually contain pairings.** _ **Specifically, Spamano, GerIta, DenNor, and HongIce**_ _ **.**_ **I haven't decided whether to do USUK then GiriPan or FrUK, AmeriPan, then GiriTurk. However, I do know that I am set on having the four pairings above. You know, the ones that are** **underlined** **and in** _ **italics**_ **.**

 **I seem to love Spamano too much. . . This is an pretty long chapter but there's a lot of Spamano. . . I'll try to control myself and not make this into a Spamano fan fiction halfway through because I have an idea for that. . .**

-

Beautiful olive green eyes with specks of brilliant gold glanced at the dimly lit, yet cleverly hidden, room, packed with an unusual team of nations and micronations. Even though Romano deemed this place to be a meeting room, it was decorated in a dark, horrible, and utterly twisted way.

Deadly equipment and weapons of all sort, some even stained with dried blood, littered the area, although none of the group, even those who were physically just young children, seemed fazed to see them at such close proximity. There weren't any chairs to sit on, so most of them just leaned on the wall; others sat on the floor. Instead of a table in the center of the room, drawn on the floor there was a magic circle with a hexagram in the middle. There was also a transparent crystal floating above it, large enough to encase a grown human and basically surging with power.

They have been using this crystal to communicate with their parallel dimension selves, thanks to the help of Romania and other somewhat magically capable nations, like Sealand, Wy, Seychelles, Australia, New Zealand, India, and Hong Kong. In other words, most of the British colonies are capable of magic. Thankfully, Canada and America aren't that capable; and for whatever reason, they did not know.

Romano glanced at his surrounding allies. They didn't seem like much; just a group of preteens and a older personifications, but they were surprisingly. . . skilled in doing their jobs, for the lack of a better word. They were quick and thorough in getting information, plus they could sneak into any specific location, no matter how guarded, undetected and could slip away just as stealthily.

Whatever motivated them to go against the more powerful nations, he didn't know. But he was grateful for the assistance, nonetheless, even if he didn't openly thank them even once.

 _I don't know if war is worth it. I'm not sure if this is a small price to pay for a big change._ Romano contemplated, eyes scanning each personification carefully; a cold, calculated gaze that caught every single movement, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant.

 _However, the others don't seem to care. As much as I dislike it, I suppose that this is the only remaining way to implement a change in the government and the law. Honestly, we've tried bringing it up to the other nations, but they dismiss our ideas just because they think they're superior. It's quite an unfair system; but I suppose it was about time we show our true colors._

He glanced, once again, at everyone in the room; his own eyes suddenly locking with Spain's. He looked away quickly, face flushing and heart hammering in his chest.

 _Why do I keep seeing him in a different light? I keep noticing things that I shouldn't; like the way his eyes twinkle when I'm with him, his beautiful, gentle smile, the way his muscles flex when he works on machines. . . okay, my thoughts are getting out of hand here. Feliciano said it was love, and I actually knew that for a while now, even before he mentioned it, but. . . I still don't know what to do about it._

Romano's brows furrowed and he sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his dark reddish-brown hair. However, despite this, he managed to give a small, genuine smile at a sudden realization.

 _I finally know why they do this. They all want to be free, to have a voice, and to make a change in the world. I guess they want to prove themselves to the other countries; and what better way to do so than declaring war? By waging war, you will show not only your intelligence but also your power. You will be able to test your mental and physical capabilities; not just fighting and battle plans, but also about controlling yourself and not letting your confidence get the better of you; and also to keep yourself from spiraling into insanity. There is more to war than just battles and strategies; for war is an experience. War helped the world develop; breakthroughs in science were made, technology improved, and nations finally got along because they experienced what would happen if they didn't._

 _Although I strongly disapprove of their methods or practicing their abilities and implementing changes, I suppose they do mean well; and for now, that's all that matters. After all, I did decide to stand by them because I felt the same. I have no right to stop them from showing their worth, because that's what I want to do as well._

Romano nearly jumped when another hand gently held his own. He looked up at Spain's endearing jade eyes, before glancing down at their intertwined hands. Crimson red shot to his face quickly, as his brain struggled to form coherent thoughts. But when he looked at the other's reassuring smile, he immediately relaxed and managed to control his breathing. Spain looked at him for a moment before laughing softly and rubbing circles on Romano's wrist with his thumb. Romano didn't know how to react, but he did know that he did not want this to end.

"What are you thinking about, Roma?" Spain asked, before tilting Romano's chin up with his other hand and pressing his forehead to his; staring at those wonderful eyes. Spain wasn't even sure if they were olive green, gold, or amber. Romano's eyes seemed to change color when he felt intense emotion. When he was mad, or when his loved ones were in danger, his eyes turned into such a deep brown that they were almost red. When he was embarrassed, his eyes sparkled an emerald green. But Spain's favorite color was gold, because that was when Romano was happy. Beautiful didn't even describe the color. It was enchanted and one of a kind; it was entrancing, but in a good way. Ah, he really fell for Romano, didn't he?

"I. . . I was wondering what motivated everyone to do this." Romano visibly struggled with his words. "Not that I didn't want anyone's help; it's just that I didn't know what drove you guys to do this."

Spain nodded, showing that he understood Romano's words. "Ah, but you did find an answer, right? After all, you're pretty smart. Not to mention good-looking, too." He added without thinking. Moments later, he immediately regretted it.

 _What if Lovi doesn't even care about me? Maybe he doesn't return my feelings. . . oh, that would be depressing. . . I've probably scared him off by. . . now. . ._ Spain's thoughts trailed off as Romano buried his head in the crook of his neck, somewhat abashedly taking Spain's other hand and intertwining their fingers as well.

"Bastard. You don't just say stuff like that, you know. It makes me feel. . . weird. . ."

Spain watched in amusement as Romano attempted to hide his burning face from view; along with his little stubborn curl, slowly but surely taking the shape of a heart. He laughed once more at Romano's absolute cuteness; until Romano mumbled something softly.

"If you're wondering, I already found an answer to that question of yours earlier. But there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you." Romano looked up with an intense gaze; olive green orbs wide with curiosity and something else. . . Spain just could've imagined it, but was that _longing?_

The Spaniard's face heated up significantly with those words, until it was almost mirroring Romano's own blush. His breathing hitched when Romano lightly tightened his grip on Spain's hands; and his heart raced when Romano stared at him, especially at such close proximity.

"O-oh. . . what do you want to know, Lovi?"

Romano raised an eyebrow. "Lovi? That's new. But it doesn't matter." He looked away for a moment, seeming hesitant; but he looked at Spain again, his eyes filled with determination.

"Tell me. . . why are _you_ doing this?"

"Um. . . what?" Spain wasn't exactly sure what he meant.

Romano rolled his eyes. "I mean, why are you on our side?"

"Why? Do you want me to leave? Is it because you hate me?" Spain said solemnly, voice filled with hurt and sadness; until Romano hastily replied.

"N-no, it's not that I don't want you here. . . well, I- I actually like you being here b-but. . ." Romano blushed even more as Spain cheered up; eyes twinkling and slightly narrowed as he flashed a gentle, almost shy smile at the Italian half-of-a-nation.

"But what, Roma?"

"I. . . I realized the reason everyone did this, but it doesn't apply to you. You might want to prove yourself to others every once in a while, but you don't exactly care much about others' opinion of you. Of course, if they take it too far, or if one's impression of you is horrible, you decide to step up, but that's about it. You wouldn't join us just for that, so there must be another reason, right?" Romano finished his detailed explanation, glancing away to avoid Spain's gaze.

Spain was ecstatic. Romano _noticed_ things about him that Spain didn't even know himself. Plus, Romano just indirectly admitted that he cared deeply for Spain because he didn't want him to leave.

"Ah, Roma, there's only one reason I'm doing this, you know. . ."

Romano looked up incredulously. "You mean. . . it's not. . .?" Spain shook his head, looking lovingly at Romano before saying something that Romano didn't expect to hear.

"I'm not doing this to change others' opinion of me, or to change the way we are governed. As much as I think your goals are noble and admirable, that's not the true reason. I joined because I wanted to be with _you._ I don't care about which side you pick, because I'll always choose to stand by you. Even if I have to fight the world, I'll still choose to be with you. . . it's because I love you, you know?" Spain admitted, releasing Romano's hands to wrap him into a hug. He wasn't afraid anymore. Knowing that Romano didn't completely hate him gave him courage to just _spit it out._ Right now, it didn't matter to him if Romano didn't feel the same. He just felt relieved that he managed to tell him what he felt.

". . . since when?" Romano asked; shyly returning the hug as well.

"I. . . I watched you grow up into the wonderful man you are today, and I guess I just. . . fell in love. At first, I felt proud that I raised you to be like this; but then I noticed that you were quite attractive, and, well, I was always infatuated with you and your fiery personality. . . I understand if you don't feel the same though. . ." It was true. When Romano left Spain, they weren't able to see each other for a while because of the dramatic decrease in Romano's economy after the unification. After his economy became stable, they saw each other every once in a while, but it didn't last long. During the Spanish Civil War, Romano convinced Italy's current leader, Mussolini, to send aid to the Nationalists. After the bombing of Guernica, Romano helped Spain recover and also tried to soothe him whenever he had a migraine due to the opposing sides fighting. And, Spain had to admit, just seeing Romano's beautiful face made him feel ten times better already.

At this, Romano pulled away from the hug and lightly hit Spain's shoulder before bringing his face closer to his. Romano's face burned a vibrant crimson red as his half-lidded but completely golden orbs locked with Spain's deep jade pair. "Idiota. . . stop thinking like that, because, oh dio, of course I feel the same. . ." He wrapped his arms around Spain's neck and slowly closed the distance between their lips.

When Romano's smooth lips landed on his gently, Spain closed his eyes in bliss and quickly kissed back, wrapping his arms around Romano's waist and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Romano ran his hand through Spain's dark chocolate brown curls as Spain kissed him sweetly and tenderly.

It was better than both of them even dared to imagine.

Romano tasted a bit like tomatoes, unsurprisingly. However, there was also the faint sweetness of chocolates and a hint of something spicy. Spain tasted like cinnamon and of something bittersweet; like licorice. Both of their tastes were exotic, and they found themselves wanting more. They had a beautiful chemistry; Romano's fiery and fierce ambience melded beautifully within Spain's passionate and calm aura.

Spain would boost Romano's self-esteem and help him be more friendly and open to others while Romano would keep Spain in place whenever he contemplated his history, for Romano would remind him that people make mistakes but some don't regret it because those imperfections made them perfect. No one would be able to cope up with Spain's bubbly and constantly energetic attitude except Romano. Even France and Prussia have trouble keeping him calm sometimes. The same way, no one wanted to put up with Romano's "rude" behavior except for Spain, Veneziano and Seborga. Spain did so because he loved Romano and because he knew that he was hurt many times in the past and pushed away others to protect himself.

So, all in all, they were the perfect match.

-


	8. Chapter 7

Seborga was a simple guy. If he wanted something, he'd try his best to get it. If he succeeded, then, of course, he'd feel proud and happy. If he failed, then he'd move on to another goal. No use whining over a defeat.

However, war is different. You can't just pick a choice based on your interests or for the sake of drama and theatrics. War is all about winning; about taking chances to strike the enemy but to not be too hasty in doing so. It is about making decisions based on the consequences and what will possibly be the outcome. There is no good or bad side in war; for the correct term would be opposing sides. Just because a side is hostile and has ulterior motives does not mean it is bad. And Seborga was sick of it.

He was tired of being called the bad guy. He was exasperated at the fact that the world treated them poorly because of their different beliefs.

 _Just because our opinions are not the same as theirs do not necessarily mean that we are evil or bad. We simply disagree with them; and since they have forced down our thoughts and refused to listen to us, we have decided to act aggressively._

And it wasn't even just global opinions; it was also trivial things, such as food preferences, favorite songs, the kind of celebrities you're into, and more.

 _Just because she likes another band does not give you a reason to alienate her._

 _Just because he doesn't like the latest song hits doesn't mean that he is stupid._

 _Just because those people like anime, speak in different languages and go on the Internet a lot does not mean that they are weird or crazy._

Liking unpopular trends was often frowned upon. People gave Seborga strange, often pointed looks if he wore something that was popular last year. It isn't even necessary to go with the trends; but with the way that the society acts about this whole matter, it seems to be an unwritten law to go along with everything that is popular and recent.

 _It is all just a matter of perspective._

Seborga was proud of his opinions and were firm about them; but he did not force it upon others. He doesn't _want_ to change other people's beliefs. He believed that everyone should be entitled their own opinion. That was his reason for fighting in this war. The minority is constantly shunned because of their different perspectives; and they are no longer treated equally by the society.

 _It is so unfair._

Some students are even _bullied_ for liking stuff that is considered "weird". Some children don't even have any friends because they see things differently. Some people are hostile towards another if they have different opinions on the same matter.

 _What's the point of giving freedom of speech if no one's going to listen?_

And the worst part about this?

No one cares. No one _wants_ to solve this. No one listens to a person who isn't popular and who doesn't have any astounding achievements. Children have all the right to speak out and state their opinions as adults, no matter how simple those perspectives are. Teenagers should be treated equally; it doesn't matter if they're emo, into punk rock and heavy death metal, or loners. People in the higher class of society are treated, well, as royalty; while those who have a low reputation are generally left alone.

 _Why is it that when you do something good, no one cares; but when you make a mistake, everyone is there to insult and tease you about it your whole life?_

Seborga knows that his team does not mind if they win or lose this war. He knows that all they want is for the world to improve. Contrary to what the other nations think, they are not doing this for wealth, power or anything else out there. They are only doing this to get rid of those unhealthy thoughts, opinions and actions.

Oh, did the people want a peaceful world?

 _Well, one way to gain peace is by fighting a war; tensions tend to grow after a century of being forced down, and war does not necessarily mean bombs, guns and death. It could be like the Cold War. It could be similar to the Olympics. Don't envision something if you don't have the facts to base it upon._

They wanted to make this world a better place?

 _Well, if you're going to wish for something, then you'd better work for it as well; for you don't just sit around praying for a miracle to happen, like a spoiled princess waiting for prince charming to jump out of nowhere. If you want something to happen, then you better_ _make it happen_ _. Also, have you people ever heard of not being hypocrites? Why do you tell others to be honest when you lie at often unnecessary times?_

Seborga wanted peace. Peace doesn't just mean the absence of war; it also refers to the absence of tension and hostility against others. His goal was for there to be no quarreling between siblings, no excessive teasing among students, and no debates amidst adults.

 _All he wished for was for everyone to be friends. All he wanted was for everyone to just get along and be happy. Is that so much to ask, that it has resulted in the complete opposite of peace; a full-blown war?_


	9. Chapter 8

"Hmph. So, we'll be able to actually arrive there two days later?" Luciano asked, searching for confirmation from Veneziano. North Italy nodded, gazing straight at his parallel self with hardened amber orbs through the crystal.

"Yes. We apologize for the delay. We went over the plans yesterday once more and found that they were much more complicated that we thought they were; hence the extension." Veneziano explained on behalf of everyone in the room, his voice stoic and serious; much unlike his usual bubbly voice. But war changes you. No one comes out of a huge, terrifying experience without at least a few scars.

"You mentioned that the enemy was moving fast the last time you reported to us. I suppose you did something to delay their progress in accordance with the extension on your part." Luciano raised an eyebrow; his deep red hair falling into his face as he tilted his head slightly.

Seborga smirked darkly, a glint of mischief and something more sinister in his green eyes that were devoid of any other emotion. "That would be my job. I try to keep the schedule in line so our plans don't get spoiled just because of problems with time."

Flavio proudly grinned when Seborga mentioned his feat. "That is quite smart of you, amico. And for such a young man too. . . You are a valuable one to the team, aren't you?" He spoke in a very melodic and smooth voice laced with a perfect Italian accent; him crimson red orbs flashing warmly, much like the embers of a flickering fire; warm and welcoming. Flavio's words made Seborga blush and avert his eyes shyly.

"Every member is important to the team. They all have their specialties that none other can do." Romano replied, pride in his voice as Flavio, his parallel dimension self, made a sound of agreement.

"Quite true. What did you do to delay the Allies anyway? Judging by how you are faring right now, you made a commotion that is enough to keep them for at least a week." Flavio queried; making Seborga step up to reply.

"I injured Prussia and hid him in a remote location. He won't die; I've made sure of that. And I hid him well, but still close enough so that it would take them quite a few days to locate him. Almost all of the members of the allies have sent out investigation and search teams for any links to Prussia's disappearance. They do suspect that we had something to do with it; but they haven't linked the crime to me. We're currently keeping our guard up, even more so than usual; especially me."

"Why didn't you kill him then? This is war, you guys. You can't go around not killing anybody, especially the enemy. Even moreso if he's a strong and formidable opponent." Allen said as if it was no big deal.

Veneziano gritted his teeth angrily. "This is no joke. We do not wish to kill any personifications. We just want our ideas to be acknowledged, and, if possible, to implement them. We may kill the people, but we do not bring death to any nations; who are our brethren, and, more importantly, our friends."

Allen sighed in exasperation. "And yet you still bring harm to their citizens. You do realize that if you do so, you still hurt the nations themselves, not only physically but also emotionally. What is the point of sparing them? You only weaken them and make them feel even more useless, hence harming them emotionally and mentally."

"Allen. That is enough." Oliver chastised. Matt put a hand on Allen's shoulder and pulled him away from sight.

Veneziano's breathing became quick and shallow at the sudden realization to go with Allen's argument. Yet, his face remained as stoic and emotionless as ever; not giving in to his thoughts, even for just a fraction of a second. "He gave his opinion and that was fine. Everyone is allowed to speak out their thoughts. I will not stop you, for that would make me a hypocrite. Now, does anyone else want to elaborate further?"

No one spoke. A tense silence ensued as everyone was expecting one or the other to utter a word. Veneziano sighed before talking once more.

"So, that was all? If you do not mind, I shall end the connection now. We shall have another meeting before you will be transported here. Good day to you." Veneziano paused for a moment, in case there were any final additions. When no one spoke again, he gestured to Romania to step up.

The personification of Romania walked up, his bloodred orbs shimmering in the light emitted by the crystal. His strawberry blonde hair shone in an ethereal glow as he approached the crystal gradually.

When he was a foot away from the crystal, he swiped a black gloved hand over the surface; very close to touching the glassy outside, but no direct contact was made at all. He closed his eyes and muttered several ancient words, forming a spell that caused fiery tendrils of deep red energy to form around the personification.

Soon, the glow from the crystal disappeared, as with the magical aura that was emanating from Romania. As the small team sat in silence in the dimly lit meeting room for what seemed like the millionth time, the same thought crossed all their minds as they replayed the events of the meeting.

Allen was right. It doesn't matter if they hurt someone else; their friends are still going to get hurt badly.

And it's all their fault. They wanted acknowledgement so badly; and this was the price they had to pay.


End file.
